The Night Of The Goddess

THE NIGHT OF THE GODDESS.

A beautiful old two-story farmhouse lies surrounded by open fields and scattered cops of hardwood trees that had witnessed the coming of the Normans. The whitewashed walls reflect the moon's light with an ethereal glow. The large attic space has been converted into two studio apartments, a window opening out of each onto a tiny balcony, barely large enough for the single occupant of each to stand and survey their pastoral surroundings.

Within one of these apartments, I sit naked in the dark and feel the full moon's power encompass me. I feel the Goddess' gentle, loving caress lightly flit across my skin. Both the tiny hairs that cover my body and my manhood respond immediately. I smile as blood flows with almost painful intensity to my expanding erection until a deep, pulsating ache tells me that I can accept no more.

She is near. I can feel her breath, her presence, yet I refuse to open my eyes just yet, letting her subtle light tease my vision through the lids.

She is worth the wait. Always has been, through the countless years that we have known each other.

At last, I allow myself a long, deep calming breath that only serves to sharpen the dull ache that permeates my loins and I open my eyes for the first time since she had appeared that night, giving myself permission to look upon her fullness.

I watch her through the open window leading to the small balcony, shivering as she caresses me once more with the breeze.

She is stunningly beautiful, as always. Yet no mere word could possibly begin to convey her majesty, her shining aura as she plays her shadows across my glistening skin.

Truly she is a goddess in every possible facet of the word.

She beckons me and, like the obedient servant I am, I rise from the soft embrace of the sofa and walk out onto the balcony, my nakedness and hardness unashamedly bare before her gaze.

Again, she caresses me with a light breeze and I become one with my surroundings, bathed in her ethereal light. Lifting my arms up away from my side, I close my eyes once more, tilt back my head and give myself up to her cool exploration.

My excitement grows as I feel her light fingers play, mischievously with the downy hairs upon my chest, feel her laughingly stroke the roundness of my buttocks and gently tease her way from the full warmth of my sack along the hardness of my shaft to the exquisite agony of the merest touch upon the head of my quivering, engorged manhood.

For a moment, I think I may loose control and release the flow of my love to her, yet I know it is not time, merely the urging of the impetuous youth that resides within all men. She deserves so much more as do all women who walk on her path. And so, with a monumental effort, I manage to stay the tide of my feelings although my maleness aches for her, battling a deep seated need to spend my precious seed, in deferent offering, upon her alter.

Opening my eyes, I smile up at her and find myself, instead, offering these heartfelt words, for now.

"Today, I walked through the trees and felt the breeze caress my bark and play mischievously with my leaves.

I came upon a stream and I felt my waters chuckle their way over rounded stones on their inexorable journey to rejoin the ebb and tide that is the mother.

The sun touched my face and I spread my golden arms out to the horizon and embraced all that lay below me with my warmth.

Yet, above all, the Moon Goddess blesses me with her smile and I maternally stroke sleeping brows with my pale light as I guard my children from the Night Mares gallop."

I turn and smile at the figure standing upon the tiny balcony beside me.

"For I am home."

The breeze plays with the soft tendrils of her shoulder length, tawny hair as she smiles back at me with dark hazel eyes, motes of distant stars twinkling softly within their depth. She too is naked, her skin pale in the moonlight, her darker nipples full and inviting.

She holds out her left hand and the full moon tattooed upon her palm glistens brightly until I reunite it with the sun tattoo that adorns the palm of my own right hand.

In one fluid movement she glides across the small gap that divides us and we stand encapsulated within each others gaze. We are so close that I can feel her feminine warmth against my manhood and our smiles deepen.

Leading her gently into my apartment, I sit once more on the sofa opposite the open glass window, the moon's light framing her full figure accentuating her small, round, fertile belly as she kneels over me, straddling me, yet not ready to allow me the essence of her.

I can feel her soft, downy alter barely touch the head of my offering. Then, ever so slowly, she tilts her head to one side. Her smile widens and she lowers herself to accept me, one beautiful millimetre at a time.

Even as she grants me this joyous gift, I can feel the heat of her love engulf my soul until she has accepted all that is within my power to give and we supernova from the two into the far greater sum that is the one.

And at this time, in this place that is nowhere yet everywhere, the perfection that is balance is born.